Run a Thousand Miles
by AngelicWings24
Summary: When Akira Daisuke is forced to move to Tokyo, Japan, she falls under the care of her unwilling aunt and uncle. School isn't much better, with her cousin making her life a living hell every day. Rated T due to a combination of paranoia and swearing.
1. Day 1: First Class

**A/N: Well hello folks! This is my Ouran HSHC fanfic, mainly based off of the anime (only because I haven't finished reading the manga). I hope you enjoy it and review! Thanks. :) Oh, and I'll be posting my disclaimer once; I do not own Ouran High School Host Club in any way. The only character I own is Akira.  
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><p>"Class, this is Akira Daisuke. She just transferred from Skyline Private Academy in the United States. Say hello."<p>

Obediently, the class collectively greeted me, in perfect unison. Lifting my head the slightest bit, I glanced around, surveying those who would be my classmates for who-knows-how-long. Honestly, I didn't even know what grade I was in. _Because these Japanese people really do things backasswards_, I thought, clutching my silver locket nervously. Utilizing a long chain, it hung pretty far down, allowing it to be easily accessed at any time. _So that I can always know it's there_.

"Is there anything you'd like to say to the class? Do you have a favorite food? Color? Tea…?" I just looked at him, daggers shooting out of my icy blue eyes. "Uh, or not. You, uh, you can take your seat. Any of the empty ones'll be just fine."

Wordlessly, as I really couldn't care less whether they thought I was a rude bitch or not, I headed towards a seat nearest the windows, completely bypassing several others. As I walked, eyes watched my every move. Although it could've been due to my status as a transfer student, I have a sneaking suspicion that it was instead due to my blatant disregard for the school's dress code. _Like I'd wear that stupid dress anyway_, I thought. Instead of wearing the yellow gown that would make me seem like a lumpy vanilla cupcake, this morning I decided to put my own twist on the uniform, donning dark wash skinny jeans, a white tank top, and a partially-buttoned baby blue cardigan, with the school crest embroidered on the left breast, of course. _They probably think all Americans are rebels or something_, I thought, noting everyone's prim and proper over the outstretched leg of a ginger twin, I quietly set my things down on the desk behind him, calmly settling down on the seat.

"Okay class, eyes up front," sensei said, clapping his hands together to gather everyone's attention. Reluctantly, everyone tore their eyes away from the fascinating new toy to look at what the teacher was doing. With a sigh, I took out my laptop and began booting up, without any real intent to study.

Looking down at my dark mahogany desk, I traced the careful carvings on the front. _Handmade_, I noted, feeling the smooth curve of a flower petal, which tapered off beautifully. _Must've been damn expensive_. Glancing around, I saw scores of students scribbling down furiously what the teacher was saying. Honestly, I didn't even know what subject this was. Looking back into my bag, I extracted a pack of gum from the front pocket before hooking it on the side of the desk.

As my laptop took forever to turn on, I dug around in my bag, finally extracting a simple mechanical pencil. Absently, I began scratching in random doodles. Today, it was Godzilla attacking Tokyo. Because everyone knows that it's the giant lizard's favorite pastime. _You'd think that he'd get bored_, I thought, adding in a King Kong scene.

"Miss Daisuke, please pay attention."

I jumped a little as the teacher pointed me out, nearly swallowing my chewing gum. Coughing, I jerked my head towards the front, away from the window I'd been staring out of. Around me, eyes were on me once more. Groaning, I nodded whilst discreetly logging into my laptop. It was still open to Starcraft Explorers. Not that I'm a nerd. Naw, I just like blowing things up. "Sorry sensei."

"Since you obviously believe you're too good to pay attention, please come up here and solve this problem."

I groaned as I watched the teacher write a logarithm on the board. _Of course it had to be a damn logarithm. I fucking hate logarithms_, I thought, obediently leaving my seat. As I passed, the sound of snickering reached my ears. _Stupid twin_, I thought, wanting desperately to smack him over the head. Curling my hands into fists, I instead kept walking, going up to the blackboard and picking up a piece of chalk. _You'd think they'd want to upgrade to Smart Boards or at least whiteboards. But I guess it matches the décor better…_ Looking at the problem, I struggled to contain a look of dismay.

_log x = __⅓ __log 27 – solve for x._

_Oh my god, how am I supposed to figure this out? _I glared at the problem. Apparently the teacher had gotten over my initial intimidation. _I'm fine with anything but math… Gah, I guess I'll just have to figure something out._ Lifting my hand, I quickly scribbled down the first answer that came to mind and just hoped it would be right.

A burst of laughter expelled from the mouth of the same twin from before. Or, at least I think so. _They're just so damn identical._ I glared his way.

"I'm sorry Miss Daisuke, but nine is not the correct answer. Hikaru Hitachiin, you seem confident. Perchance you'd like to prove yourself by answering the problem." Sensei looked at the boy who'd burst out in laughter. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms, and began heading back to my seat. _Whatever._ "Ah, Daisuke, stay here and watch how he solves the problem." I rolled my eyes, stopping in my tracks and crossing my arms to watch the proceedings.

"I'll do it," the twin in front of my desk said.

"…if you can tell which one is Hikaru," the one two seats to the left finished. A rather feminine-looking brown-haired boy sat between the twins.

"We have assigned seats, boys," sensei stated exasperatedly. "If Hikaru is _not_ the one on the right, both of you will be in trouble."

"Dang," the first one said, standing. "That's no fun." Reluctantly, he walked up, lifting a piece of chalk and scribbled down his answer. I watched as he glanced at the work one last time before setting it down. _Show-off_.

"That's correct. The answer Daisuke should have gotten was three. I'm sorry, but I'm going to ask that you do these extra problems." Calmly, sensei handed me a packet of problems from his briefcase. "I expect you to hand them in by the end of the week. You two may now return to your seats"

_Shit, seven pages?_ I looked at the packet incredulously, although my face showed no emotion. Following Hikaru back to my seat, I thought of about a thousand things to say to the jerk, none of which were particularly polite in the slightest. Chewing my gum slowly, I sat down at my desk, angrily stuffing the stupid packet into my messenger bag. _This school sucks._


	2. Day 1: Meet the Host Club

**A/N: Well, here's the second chapter. Right now, I intend on developing the relationships, but I'll be adding in some romance. Since I haven't decided on a pairing yet, perhaps you guys can all vote on why my character should end up with? Really anyone but Tamaki, since he and Haruhi have their thing going on. Anyways, don't forget to read and review! :)**

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><p>"What's she doing?"<p>

The entire host club huddled together to watch in awe as certain teen girl, who was currently sitting on a windowsill, was hunched over and currently working hard on, dare I say it, _homework_. Bubblegum pink-tipped hair fell over her face, shielding her from everyone else in the room. Not that she needed it. The aura she gave off could freeze hell over. Twice. No one dared approach the corner.

"Why is she here?"

"Who does homework at the Host Club?"

"She scares me."

"Akira Daisuke, class 1-A, she just transferred from the United States. Her cousin is Natsumi Satou, one of our most reliable regulars." Kyoya didn't even bother looking up from his black book. Everyone turned to him, shocked that he knew such information. But of course, he profiled everyone that stepped food within the clubroom. Finally, he looked up, turning to Haruhi and the twins. "Actually, she should be in your class."

"Oh yeah," Haruhi said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "She sat behind Hikaru and played games all day on her computer."

"We don't know her too well," the twins said in unison, shrugging.

"Hm, well she's scaring the customers," Kyoya noted as girls reeled back from the corner. "But I don't think it'd be wise to ban her from the club, considering who her cousin is…"

"Aha! Perfect candidate!" Tamaki grinned, pointing Akira rather rudely. "Our mission is to put a smile on every girl that comes to our humble abo-."

"Humble? Please, you're dressed as a medieval king," Haruhi commented, shaking her head.

"-our duty to help this needy child! Daddy demands it!" Tamaki cried, plowing on as though there were no interruption at all. Haruhi couldn't help but wonder if he heard her at all. "Mommy, back me up on this."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with the clubs normal activities," Kyoya muttered, clearly exasperated as he resumed writing in his ever-present book. Sometimes Tamaki could be a real handful. Turning, he began to walk away. "Don't forget about your appointments."

"Great! Whoever doesn't have an appointment shall assign themselves to our new mission!" Out of nowhere, Tamaki managed to pull out a random whiteboard. Scrawled on it were the words 'Operation Put a Smile on Akira Daisuke's Face a.k.a. Operation Happy'. "So here's what we'll do…" Pulling out his plastic sword, he used it as a pointer, explaining everything written down.

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><p>Tucking a lock of my blonde hair behind my ear, I looked down at the extra math homework I'd been given. No word in the English, or Japanese, vocabulary could describe the hatred I felt towards Hikaru and sensei at this exact moment. For about the fifteenth time, I crossed out my work to a problem and began reworking it. Not only was math my worst subject, but I hated it with a fiery passion. Sighing, I looked around. Some of the Host Club members were gathered around a whiteboard in what looked like a makeshift meeting. <em>Funny, I didn't see that board earlier, <em>I thought, watching them curiously.

Not long afterwards, it looked like they were fighting over something. There was hushed name-calling, hair-pulling, and face-poking. Finally, just as soon as the tiny tussle started, it stopped. Almost as one, they all turned. _They're looking at me_, I thought, feeling their eyes as I quickly returned to the frustratingly difficult packet. Tapping my pencil on the papers, I tried to block all sounds and feelings as I churned numbers in my head. It just resulted in a massive headache. _How the hell can Natsumi like this place_, I thought, rubbing my temples.

"Aki-chan!"

A young boy, looking like he shouldn't even be out of elementary school, gazed up at me, clutching a stuffed pink bunny. Behind him stood a much taller, more intimidating and muscular boy. _Their names… Mori and Honey_, I remembered, having heard it during my long wait in music room no. 3. Turning my head, I kept my expression blank as I looked at the blonde child. Although at first glance the male looked to be incredibly young, upon closer inspection, I could see my rather obvious mistake.

"Do you want to share some cake with me?" He smiled sweetly. "Or you can hold Usa-chan!"

I blinked twice, unfazed by his actions. _This kid's seventeen. _"Shouldn't you act your own age?"

Honey froze, mouth slightly agape. If I'd bothered paying attention, I'd have noticed people begin to inch away slowly. But of course, being me, even if I had noticed, I wouldn't have done anything. Uncaring, I simply ended up looking back at the math packet. In the three hours I'd been toiling away at it, only half a page was completely filled out. _This sucks._

"Act…my…age?" What used to be a cute grin was slowly morphing into a look of anger. Usa-chan slipped out of his grasp as he curled his small hands into fists.

_Great, someone's being a bit touchy. Better get this dealt with._ I sighed, dropping my pencil on my lap. Then, just as I'd been taught, I struck.

"Honey, are you hurt?" Quickly, Mori grabbed Honey as his knees gave way and his fists unclenched. He was clearly worried as the blonde's body completely relaxed in his arms. It was clear that nothing life-threatening had happened to the boy, but Mori was still worried as he watched over Honey. My heart ached as I saw them and I felt the first hints of guilt for striking at Honey.

"She surprised me, is all," Honey said, getting up and reaching to pick up his toy. I could see that his legs still shook, not from fear but as a side-effect. _Pressure points really are great_, I thought, beginning to pack up. There was no point in staying here any longer. Around us, club activities continued, leading me to wonder if anyone had even noticed.

"Akira." Of course, at this moment, my brunette cousin stood up. For the first time since I'd known her, Natsumi's timing was nearly spot-on. "I think it's time we got going. Pick up my tab, won't you?" I watched as she and her friends stood, along with many of the other girls. I guess they were switching hosts or something.

Looking around, I caught sight of a boy wearing glasses and holding a clipboard. _He's probably the one_, I thought, grabbing my bag. Glancing back at Honey, my heart skipped a beat. _For a moment, he looked just like… _I shook my head, trying to get those thoughts out. Turning to him, I muttered, "I-I'm sorry."

Honey only smiled. "It's okay, Aki-chan!" _Damn, he gets over things fast_.

Turning away, I walked towards the guy wearing the glasses. He was writing in a book, so I cleared my throat in order to get his attention. Behind me, I sensed that the others in the Host Club were converging around the boy and his friend.

"Yes?" He looked down at me, his demeaning tone making my blood boil.

"Natsumi Satou, what does she owe?" I asked, barely able to contain myself. I held my leather wallet, prepared to count out the money.

"Let's see now, she bought…" The guy just kept on talking about stuff I really couldn't care less about. Adjusting the messenger bag's strap, I crossed my arms and tapped my foot, hoping that I could even figure out the foreign money. _Why can't it all be uniform, like in America?_ "…comes to fifty-three thouand, six hundred, and twenty-seven yen."

I mentally slapped myself. _Fifty-three thousand? What the hell could she have done here?_ Reluctantly, I counted out the absurdly large amount of cash, handing the bills and coins over. _Because they can't have only bills. That'd be too easy_, I thought, sticking my wallet into my bag again. Turning away, I began heading out.

"Have a lovely day," he called out, although I hardly thought he meant it. Acting as though I didn't hear him, I kept moving.


	3. Day 1: Going Home

**A/N: Well, if you haven't noticed already, I'm posting multiple chapters at once. More specifically, four. After that, it's up to you guys to read and review to inspire me to update. Well, that's it. Enjoy.**

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><p>"What took you so long?"<p>

Quietly, I slid into the waiting stretch limo, closing the door behind me. Almost immediately, the car pulled away from the curb, heading towards the Satou family's rather large estate. Scooting over, I sat across from my cousin, setting my bag down on the ground. _This car is so freaking tacky_, I thought. _No one in their right mind drives around in limos in America._ Inside, the car was dark - dark leather, dark upholstery, and darkly tinted windows. The separator was up, dividing the car in two. _Natsumi's so stuck up, she refuses to converse with the 'help'_.

"Trying to figure out your country's stupid currency," I muttered, looking outside. Unfamiliar scenery whizzed by as the driver went barely above the speed limit. Just fast enough that we could get home early but slow enough that if police used their speedometer, it could be debatable. _Awesome_.

"Hmph," Natsumi smirked, her face contorted into a rather ugly expression. Or perhaps that's just the way she looked. "For all your smarts, you sure act stupid."

"H-." I stopped. If I lashed out at Natsumi, her parents, my aunt and uncle, would be pissed. And my life would get even harder. Sighing, I said nothing. This was going to be a long car ride.

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><p>"What was with her?"<p>

The host club had ended and all of the customers finally went home. Now were just the after-club activities. This usually involved Haruhi cleaning up, Kyoya crunching numbers, and the others sitting around chatting about rather inconsequential topics. Today was different, though. Everyone had taken their seat at the long rectangular table, which meant some important shit was about to go down.

"She didn't want to be bothered," Haruhi said matter-of-factly. "I know the feeling."

"Maybe she's still angry," Kaoru and Hikaru said together.

"What?" Everyone looked at the twins. Everyone that is, except for Haruhi, who'd been there when it happened.

"Oh, we didn't tell you?" The twins snickered deviously. Haruhi groaned, rolling her eyes. There was no way these two were going to say it nicely. The two doppelgangers looked at her. "Well, Haruhi, if you wanted to tell them, you should've said so."

Haruhi froze, looking at them. "No, I, uh, didn't mean, er, _fine_." Turning to the entirety of the club, she sighed. "Hikaru didn't make such a great first impression today. She ended up getting extra homework."

"It's not my fault she couldn't figure out such a simple problem," Hikaru said, crossing his arms and looking to one side. "Math is easy."

"Not for everyone," Kyoya said, pushing his glasses up and looking at the group. "In any case, according to my calculations, if we lose Miss Satou as a valuable customer, our sales will be down thirteen percent. The girl's cousin is rather influential within the social ranks."

"Whaaa?" Tamaki could hardly believe it. "How can someone be so important? Does no one come to see me?" No one paid any attention when he returned to his usual "crouching in the corner, depressed" stance.

"Oh, Tamaki-sempai, cheer up," Haruhi said, looking over at him. "You still have loyal fans."

"Not if Miss Satou has anything to say about it," Kyoya commented. "Her followers make up about seventy-three point six percent of your requests."

"That really wasn't helpful," she said, face-palming as Tamaki sunk deeper into his state of depression. _Soon he'll start growing mushrooms again…_

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><p>It wasn't soon enough when the castle-like building came into view. Fifteen minutes away from school, it was significantly closer to the Satou family's private beach, something I appreciated greatly. Indeed, back home, I seriously loved surfing, considering it much better than any other sport. No matter the season, I'd always be up for a few hours of surfing. Not that I was pro or anything; I just considered it a great stress reliever.<p>

As we drove up the driveway, I began to gather my things. Across from me, Natsumi just sat there and when her door finally opened, she stepped out, paying no heed to her school things. Behind her, a maid obediently grabbed her things, rushing after her. I groaned, turning around and knocking on the partition. Almost immediately, it came down.

"Yes Miss Daisuke?" The driver turned to look at me.

"I just wanted to say thanks, Oji-san. And I'm sorry that Natsumi's such a bitch." A grin broke out on his face at my version of a thank you. I guess no one in the Satou family ever thanked their workers. Actually, considering my behavior recently, I wouldn't have said anything either, but I felt like they got enough shit to deal with as it is.

"It was no problem at all," he said as I began to slide out. "Have a pleasant evening, miss!"

As I walked around the main building, I slipped my bag over one shoulder. The Satou family had definitely not wanted me to come stay with them. My uncle had always hated the Daisukes ever since my mother left Japan for America. It didn't help that mom had married a rather successful American, who came from a long line of reputable entrepreneurs and politicians. So, in order to see as little of me as possible, they had 'graciously' 'permitted' me to stay in their guest house. _As though they were doing me a huge favor_, I thought, stepping on the cobblestone path leading to my home. Honestly, it would have become an international issue if they hadn't acknowledged their duties as my only living relatives.

"Home sweet home," I muttered sarcastically, unlocking the front door. After moving in last week, I hadn't bothered unpacking anything, instead opting to do the whole 'unpack as you go' process. As a result, the floors were completely littered with boxes, half empty with crap littered everywhere.

Stepping over a random jacket, I kicked off my Vans and walked further in. Not that there was much further to walk in to. Upon walking through the front door, there was a small mini-foyer, where to the left was a dining room (ha, like I'd be entertaining any guests) and to the right, the living room. A bit past the living room was the kitchen, already equipped with the necessities. A staircase cut the through the small house, separating the dining room from the kitchen and living room. Underneath the second-floor landing was the butler's pantry (don't ask me why they included one in such a small place) that would connect the kitchen and dining room if I ever bothered using it. Upstairs was my room, the house's only bathroom, and the laundry room.

Walking into the living room, I dropped my bag on the couch, which was already filled with boxes, before continuing into the kitchen. Stomach grumbling unhappily, I pulled open the refrigerator door. _Of course,_ I thought, seeing the emptiness inside. _Damn, I really need to go shopping._ Turning away, I rummaged through empty cupboards, finally able to extract some instant ramen from the depths of the cabinet. _Yum…another gourmet dinner._

Really, the only upside about eating the junk food was that it was prepared so quickly. Sitting down at the breakfast bar, I ripped the lid off of the foam cup and stirred the ingredients together with my stainless steel fork. Not that I couldn't use chopsticks, I just didn't have a set. Around me, the house was dead silent, suffocating me with the emptiness. I could barely breathe. A sudden spark of pain suddenly surged down my back, forcing me to grit my teeth.

"Music player," I grumbled aloud as the pain slowly subsided, activating the music system wired throughout the house. Immediately, music began to boom through the hidden speakers, having settled on playing an Eminem song.

_"His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti."_ The male rapped beautifully in the background, utilizing intricate wordplay to create a perfect line.

_Soul's escaping, eh?_ I poked at my food dejectedly. _Yeah, that sounds about right…_ Sighing, I pushed the food away, my appetite gone. I got up and put the foam cup on the counter for later. Silence. Looking around, an overwhelming sense of loneliness enveloped me. My hands shook slightly and I was forced to shove them into my pockets. _Weak…I'm weak._


	4. Day 2: Surprise Encounters

**A/N: This is the final chapter in my back-to-back postings. I really hope you enjoy it and review. Constructive criticism is very welcome**** and don't forget to vote on a pairing. Thanks and enjoy. :)**_  
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><p><em>Finally, fucking English class<em>, I thought, propping myself up. If Monday had been boring, today was definitely ten times worse. Time slowly crawled as we learnt about American history, something I'd been taught in seventh grade. Math was no better, with me still struggling with logarithms and the boy in front of me allowing me no reprieve. Honestly, his actions, if not obnoxious, were just flat out arrogant. It felt like decades before we finally reached English, my best subject. And it was still before lunch.

"Can anyone correct this paragraph?" Sensei turned around, having written down an entire paragraph on the board.

_That guy clearly needs a projector,_ I thought. _No one in their right mind would write all of that on the board. _Glancing around, I saw only one hand raised – that of the second Hitachiin brother. _Name…Kaoru. He seems like the younger one._

"Ah, Kaoru, please come up," he said gratefully, moving aside for the twin to approach the blackboard. "Improve it as best you can."

We all watched, though for different reasons, as Kaoru approached the board, chalk in hand. Though I found the exercise frustratingly easy, it wasn't hard to see that in this class, such a problem was among the more difficult sensei could hand out. I smiled to myself, watching as Kaoru carefully examined the paragraph, marking it as he went.

"I'm done," he said after a few minutes, setting the chalk down. "I think that's all that can be changed."

"Excellent work, Kaoru. You may take your seat," sensei said. While the twin headed back to his seat, sensei surveyed the remainder of us. "Would any of you like to add anything to Mr. Hitachiin's work?"

As time passed, no one raised even a finger. I was actually surprised. "I will."

Standing, I didn't even wait for the teacher to green-light my participation. Grabbing a piece of chalk, I set to work, writing over Kaoru's own corrections in favor of my own. Honestly, it was fun to work in my own language again. Although I didn't have anything against Japanese or Kanji, as I've been learning it since before I could walk, English was, and always will be, simple more natural to me. Probably because it was my primary language for the first sixteen years of my life.

"This comma is misplaced," I began, scribbling down corrections. "And the grammar is still a bit messy, although Hitachiin did improve it significantly. However, word choice hasn't even been considered, although many of these terms are completely unnecessary." I scratched out a few words. "Instead of _this_ use 'divergence'… You can replace this word with 'proliferation'. …'Vast' and 'deeply rooted' are also excellent vocabulary words…" After nearly re-writing the entire paragraph, I moved back to survey my work. _Brilliant_, I thought proudly. Although it wasn't my best work, that single paragraph could have easily been taken from a college thesis paper. On butterflies. _Meh._

As the class read the paragraph, they were dumbfounded. _It's like they didn't expect me to be any good at my own language_, I thought, setting my chalk down and heading back to my seat. Sitting, I ignored the shocked stares of my classmates and resumed my original position with my hand propping my head up.

Sensei cleared his throat nervously. I guess my writing was past his level of comprehension or something. I'm probably just flattering myself. "Well, um, can anyone explain to me the reasoning behind Miss Daisuke and Mr. Hitachiin's corrections?" Looking around, he couldn't find a single willing student. "Anyone…?"

English class ended up being pretty good. I managed to both make my teacher look stupid and do something I was good at. It was a rare occurrence when I could accomplish both of those within an hour. In my opinion, that was a rather quick class period. However, when we were finally dismissed to our 'noontime recess in the refectory' (these people managed to make even lunch sound snobby), I was relieved. My stomach was killing me.

As I packed my stuff, students around me began to file out as quickly as possible. As groups of two or three chatted amongst each other, I couldn't help but watch as the rather feminine, brown-haired boy stayed in his seat, pulling out…

"A bento box?" I quickly turned away, embarrassed to have been staring. _Of course. He's the commoner everyone knows about. Honor student and what-not._

Grabbing my bag, as there were several rather expensive items inside that I didn't want stolen, I began walking. _Stupid clasp_, I thought, struggling to close it as I walked. The thing always got stuck.

"Hey, new girl."

My head jerked to the side, looking for who was calling for me. "Wha-?"

A sudden shove from my left caught me by surprise and knocked me to the ground, sending my bag flying. Papers scattered across the empty hallway, along with pencils, erasers, other random junk, and…my laptop.

"No!" I shouted, trying to get up so that I could scramble over. No such luck. The moment played out as though God had suddenly decided that slow motion was much cooler. Before my eyes, my precious laptop, a Christmas gift from my parents, slammed down on the cold, hard marble floors. A distinct _crack_ could be heard as it landed.

"Oops, _sorry_."

I turned my head to look at my assailants. _Of course_, I thought bitterly, seeing the all-too-familiar faces of a group of airheads, my cousin in the middle of them. _I should've known Natsumi was behind this._ I watched silently as the gaggle of second-years passed by, looking down on me both literally and figuratively.

"You should really look after yourself more carefully, _Cous'_," Natsumi taunted as she passed, making a point to step on my stuff and rip my science homework. Laughing rather maliciously, she and her goons turned a corner, disappearing down the stairs.

"Damn it!" I swore aloud, pounding my fists against the floor. I didn't even bother translating my angry mutterings into Japanese as I pulled what was closest into a pile in front of me. _I hate my life._ I was saving the fateful moment when I found out whether my laptop was dead or alive for last.

"Hey." A spiral-bound notebook appeared before me. The cover was ripped, bent, and pages were missing, but I could still see my distinctive doodles on the front.

"Thanks," I muttered, adding the book to my growing pile. Honestly, for a moment I'd completely forgotten about the boy who eats in the classroom. _Although closer up, he looks even more like a girl, if that's even possible._

"I'm Haruhi," he said, bending down to help me pick up my things. "I, ah, saw what happened. Does she do that a lot?"

"Nine times in the past week," I grumbled, getting over the initial shock that he was actually talking to me. Reaching over, I grabbed my empty pencil bag, dropping a few pieces of lead inside.

"Oh…" Haruhi seemed lost for words as he grabbed a few papers. "I'm-."

"-sorry," I finished for him, angrily grabbing my math textbook. "I know. I've heard it before." And so I have. Probably about a thousand times. But that didn't mean I had the right to snap at him like that. Especially since he was helping me pick my stuff up.

The hallway was quiet, save for the rustle of paper. Neither of us knew what to say.

"So, er, Akira-san, I saw you take Honey-sempai out with one hit yesterday," Haruhi said, breaking the silence. "You must be pretty skilled to even touch a Haninozuka."

"No, not skilled," I said. In the corner of my eye, I could still see the black case of my laptop, lying on the ground forlornly. "I took him by surprise. The situation was going downhill anyways. My dad taught me to defuse the problem as soon as possible, so that's what I did. The only think I really know is pressure points and that's what I used on sempai."

"That's still pretty cool," Haruhi replied, handing me the last textbook. "What does he do? Your dad, I mean."

"Um, he was a United States senator," I said after a short pause. _Something about this guy_, I thought, stuffing crap back into my bag. _His aura…it's surprisingly…comforting._ Just as I thought that, a sudden, brief surge of pain emanated from my back, making me flinch. "My mom…was a doctor," I forced out, trying my best to not make Haruhi aware of my discomfort.

"Huh, pretty neat." I watched as he crossed over to the laptop, picking it up. My face fell as I saw the dents and scratches on the component's outer shell. "Hey, this one's yours too, right?"

"Um, yeah, thanks," I said, accepting the lightweight device. _The moment of truth_, I thought, preparing myself for the absolute worst. Holding my breath, I slowly opened the lid. When tiny pieces of glass fell onto the keyboard, I groaned. "It's a huge crack," I said, quickly opening it all of the way. Sure enough, a fracture had formed down the middle, splitting into dozens of tinier ones as it moved down. _Great_.

"That's really awful," Haruhi said, looking at the screen. "We should confront Natsumi. She can't just go around doing this to people!"

"No," I said, shutting the laptop. I could barely contain a wince as more _clink_s resonated from the electronic. "It'll only make it worse. Thanks, Haruhi-kun, but you can't do anything, alright?" I shoved the laptop into my bag, fastening the clasp immediately afterwards. "You have to promise not to tell anyone."

The expression on his face was of pure bewilderment. A moment of silence passed as I waited for his reply. "I-I promise," he finally stuttered, still looking at me.

"Thanks." I shouldered my bag and forced a smile on my face. "Well, I'm starving. I'd invite you to join me, but I know you eat in the classroom every day. Well, see you!"

Leaving the poor boy dumbfounded right outside our classroom, I turned away, heading in the direction of the cafeteria (or as they called it, the 'refectory'). Of course, once I was out of sight, I dropped the grin and took a little detour, away from the masses and into a quiet bathroom, where I could wait for the lunch period to end. As was typical in the past month, my appetite had left me in favor of another, much less messed-up, teen.


	5. Day 2: It's Not Rainin' Men

**A/N: Hey, so first things first – it makes me laugh how bad you guys are at reviewing. No offense, but I only got one review (thanks, by the way) and not a single vote. I still want to know who you guys think should be paired with my character. Anyways, out of the goodness of my heart, I decided to finally update (actually, I wasn't sure what to write, so this is a lot of filler). Just a side note, but there's a phrase in here that I desperately wanted to use - first person to point it out (and include a review and vote) will get a minor OC in an upcoming chapter. Just include the name, a physical description/picture, and personality. Anything else is up to you. Well, I hope you guys enjoy and please don't forget to review this time! Criticisms, compliments, and general comments/ideas are all welcome. Thanks! Oh, and if I don't get any votes, I'll start drawing straws.  
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><p><em> Stupid, stupid!<em>

I glared down at the ground, tightening my grip on the grocery bags. (Instead of going home with the Royal Bitch, I'd actually remembered my desperate need for food.) Around me, few were left roaming on the streets and those that stuck around were doing their best to get home as quickly as possible. I sighed, glancing up at the overcast sky. Dark clouds were rolling in from the north, warning of an impending rainstorm the weather report had been speaking of last night. Gusts of wind that had formed from light breezes were picking up in speed, blowing my hair forwards, the layers gently brushing against my cheeks.

"Hmph." Shifting the bags to one hand, I pushed strands of hair back, tucking them behind my ears. I sighed, rolling my shoulders back and lifting my chin the slightest bit. This motion, usually, would be rather calming, for one reason or another. It's just one of my ticks. A habit, per say. Unfortunately, this time it managed to do the exact opposite.

_Damn, my medicine_, I thought, realizing how late it'd become. Suddenly, sparks of pain shot through my body, all originating from my back. I gasped in pain as the throbbing grew worse with every second. My hands trembled, clenching and unclenching. The plastic bags I held fell to the ground, with the contents spilling across the sidewalk and onto the road. Beneath me, my legs gave out, leaving me collapsed on the ground, body aching. _Damn it_, I thought angrily, clenching my fists. Tears of frustration leaked out from the corners of my eyes as I tried, and failed, to get to my feet. My breathing was heavy as pain surged through me, as though someone were digging a knife into my back, dragging it diagonally from my left shoulder to the bottom of my ribcage.

The first few drops of rain patted gently on the ground, darkening the cement. Around me, the roads were empty, contributing to a rather dark atmosphere. _Pathetic fallacy, _I thought wryly, struggling to a sitting position as waves of pain coursed through my body. Leaving my groceries on the ground, I grabbed my bag, shaking hands struggling to undo the clasp. Frantically digging through the crap in my bag, I couldn't find it.

"No!" I screamed, chucking the stupid thing away from me. _It's not there. I don't have it!_ Quickly, I grabbed my phone out of my jeans pocket. Fingers trembling, I struggled to input the correct number. I flinched as a new wave of pain emanated from the same spot, the feeling reaching the ends of my fingertips. Rain pounded against the glass screen, blurring the text. My hair fell in my face, gently curled and dripping wet. Barely containing cries of frustration, anger, and pain, I finally hit the call button.

"Yamamoto? Ca-an you bring the car?" My teeth were gritted and I stumbled over my Japanese, but I could only hope that he understood me. "I-I need to get to the h-h-hospital."

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><p>"So...she was here again." Tamaki sat at his seat, forehead resting on the dark wood table. Of course, earlier that day, Akira had blatantly refused to be pulled in by his advances, sending the poor blonde into a never-ending spiral of depression. The only reason he even left the corner everyone had deemed "Tamaki's Sad Place" was because Mori literally carried him to the meeting area.<p>

"Not surprising, really," Hikaru said, leaning his chair back.

"Considering she grew up overseas," Kaoru finished, following suit. **(A/N: Many Japanese people are under the impression that people from the 'West' are much more promiscuous.)**

"Oh, come on, you guys. She's not that bad," Haruhi commented, coming to the girl's defense. Honestly, she still hasn't forgotten about earlier that day. Out of all the stereotypes in the world, Akira more fit the 'Lone Wolf' type, with a grudge against the world. Never in a million years would Haruhi have ever imagined that she was the type to be bullied. _And by her own cousin too_…

"Bad or not, the girl is obviously bringing down the atmosphere," Kyoya said, clicking away at his calculator. "I'd really hate to ban her from the club, considering Miss Natsumi's pulling power over many of our customers." Oh yeah, Haruhi never told them about Akira's estrangement from her dear cousin.

"Phooey, I really wish Aki-chan would cheer up," Honey said in between mouthfuls of cake. "She didn't even get to eat any cake today. Do you think she wants cake?" He looked up at Mori, who wordlessly shook his head in his own patent-pending way.

"Sorry to hash on your gig, Honey-sempai, but I'm pretty sure she's got something else on her mind than cake," Haruhi muttered, sipping some of the instant coffee everyone was still so excited about. Across from her, Kyoya stepped away to answer a call. "Besides, even Tamaki annoyed her."

Nearby, Tamaki made a sort of choking-retching noise before hurrying back to his corner.

"Uh, sempai? I didn't mean-." Haruhi's half-assed apology was cut off by the brief _click_ Kyoya's phone made as he flipped it shut.

"It seems that Miss Daisuke has been admitted into one of my family's hospitals," Kyoya noted emotionlessly, slipping the phone into his pocket as he went back to his seat. Tamaki sunk deeper into his state of depression as Kyoya completely ignored him. Calmly, he lifted his fountain pen and began scribbling in his notebook.

"Oh, is it serious?" Haruhi looked at him, genuinely worried. Everyone else just looked on, excited about this rather unexpected turn of events.

"She seemed to have collapsed in severe pain on her way home," he said, still writing. At first glance, he would seem to be completely disinterested. "Everything's been dealt with and, taking her natural personality into consideration, she'll be released soon."

_I hope it doesn't have to do with what happened before,_ Haruhi thought, looking into the depths of her coffee. _She did fall pretty hard_. "I hope she'll be alright…"

There was a short pause as everyone (excluding Tamaki, who was still in his corner) soaked in the details.

"Well, I see none of you are busy, so you should all start thinking of ideas for next week's host club meeting," Kyoya said, not hesitating in breaking the silence. He pushed up his glasses, looking at everyone. "This atmosphere is most definitely unwelcome within these four walls of the host club. It'll bring down sales."

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><p>"Here." I shoved the stupid papers towards the stupid nurse, along with the stupid blue pen they'd handed to me. The kanji had managed to give me a headache, on top of a headache from earlier. <em>At least I got my Vicodin<em>, I thought, pocketing the orange bottle the nurse handed to over. Around me, the hospital was blindingly white, the only color coming from the stiff sea-green couches provided. _I hate hospitals_, I thought, walking through the halls to find my way out.

It hadn't taken Mr. Yamamoto, the driver, long to find me. Arriving in the black Lincoln Town Car (thank god he didn't take the limo), he and another servant helped me into the car and made his way to the closest hospital. Once inside, I'd been pumped full of pain killers, quickly relieving me of most discomfort. Apparently this is what happens when I forget to refill my meds. Initially, the nurses and doctors didn't want me to leave the hospital, actually thinking that they could keep me cooped up overnight. _Morons_. I've spent enough time in hospitals to last me several lifetimes. There was no way in hell I was going to remain in the disinfected, stark white area any more than necessary.

"Here are some groceries," Miss Ishikawa (the aforementioned 'other servant') said, holding out a bag bulging with more food than I'd actually bought before. "I saw that you had dropped your bags, so I went out and picked up some more things. I hope they are to your liking. Your school bag is in the car. I tried to save as much as possible, but many of your things have been damaged by the rain."

"Ah, thanks," I said, accepting the groceries. "And it's okay. It's not your fault. Actually, I just want to get home."

"Yes ma'am," she said, still beaming. "Just follow me – Mr. Yamamoto has been waiting outside. Oh, and your hair looks really pretty. You should leave it curled sometimes."

The car ride was relatively quiet, with Ishikawa trying to make conversation at random intervals. If I had to choose, my two favorite people right then was Ishi-san and Yamamoto. She was always so freaking upbeat about everything, it's just hard not to like her. As for Yamamoto, he's like my father figure in Japan. In no way would my actual uncle be anything other than an unfortunate blood relation. He hates me and unsurprisingly, the feeling is mutual. _Although honestly, I really don't know why. It's just, when someone hates you, it's only natural to hate them back. Otherwise you just end up getting hurt._

I sighed, my breath fogging up the glass. Raindrops pattered against the darkly tinted window as we drove home. _Where I still have to do my homework_, I thought sourly. _And that stupid math packet Hikaru Hitachiin made me get. Stupid twin… Wow, I use stupid way too much._


End file.
